The unseen vibrations,
Minute, yet great,
Almost deafening to the ears,
Dance across the walls
Of many seperate rooms.
Are they a reminder
To the colitude,
Of the many lives
Living, breathing, functioning above and below?
The many young students
Stepping out onto new paths to
Forge new frontiers on old foundations.
The hum in these walls
Must be the charge of vast potential.


On the new moon
Darkened shadows hide blood and life.
On the new moon
Alleyways echo the thieves' tune,
The Elven King chooses his wife
And all is lost to vicious strife
In new moon darkness.

Old Things

There are some things
Long forgotten in a box
Translucent with age, like fairy wings
That taste like the rust on the locks
Keeping them from the outside world.

The sound of these voices
Is hard and bitter with cacophony:
The banging and shrieking of past choices
And emotions screaming for empathy
From any distant invisible outstretched hand.

Then others are like play dough,
Naively colorful in childish romp.
They were always for show,
Now hard with glitter, feathers, and pomp.
Set them aside with a sad smile.

Yet, here an old quilt from warm hearth.
Soft and warm, thought faded.
Wrapped up in it's worth
You may forget you are jaded
From the past you loved to hate.


Through a single tear
I see the true you.
All your hope and fear
And this impasse I've come to.

I'm stubborn
So stubborn,
I've bitten my tongue
A thousand nights.

I called you out,
Geared up to fight,
But after one shout
You took flight.

I've only known
You to be stubborn
And other words
I hope not to say.

Smoldering embers, I burn
Drown by tears from a dove.
I have so much yet to learn
About the hands of hate and love.

An Otherwise Chaotic House

Cool air makes the curtains
Float back and forth.
Rain pounds down
All around this quiet house,
All around this quiet town.
Crickets chirp in the dripping flowers
Pampas grass sags onto
Damp cedar bark.
Setting sun hides
Behind grey clouds
As night falls
And the storm ends.

信仰 (Faith)

Reaching upward, growing tall
Sky split by steeple spire.
Here a place to hear Faith's call,
Kneeling at the feet of God,
In humble prayer to admire
At all the wonders to be awed.

Here to rest in white pall.
In the churchyard to retire,
Darkness onto life will fall.
As one lives by rule and rod
The soul climbs higher
To Heaven's gate abroad.

In the dust and dirt we crawl
All labeled: sinner, thief, or liar.
Read here, letters from Saul,
To weed out all fraud,
Be baptized by holy fire
And rise up in the name of God.


Tick, tick, tick, tick
Like a playing card in bicycle spokes.
Spinning, it starts to hum
The melody of the motion of invention.
The ticks become an old car
Guttering down a rain slick alley,
Faster and faster:
To a smooth-engined roadster,
Careening through the scenic view,
To a plane readying for take off,
Readying to unite the world.

No sound of gears
Just the spinning.
Such a small amount of energy
Adding and adding
And building up inertia
To go continuously around and around.
The quick release:
Power gone faster than possible.
Success and survival
Completing circuit after circuit.

Old Coat

Hail and brittle ice bounce against the threads
And the warmth of the this fabric spreads
To the limbs that are constant occupants.
Faded cloths and mended patches are seen at a glance
Despite the wool, stalwart black,
Shielding the green silk stretched slack,
Tucked into pocket and sleeve.
Left on rack or chair to take reprieve
It awaits the next quest,
Or chance to be cuddle to the chest
Of the little girl who so loves it
Until it must retire to the closet.

虚偽 (Untruthful)

Question stated.
Answer already known
And the demons baited.

The tongue twists for release awaited,
The dark paths to which we are prone.
Question stated.

Open your mouth, trust desecrated
The seeds of lies are sown
And the demons baited.

Stand here like you were fated
Stand here all alone
Question stated.

Consequence makes the heart hated,
Swords you start to hone
And the demons baited.

Look what your foolishness has created
Here the truth is shown.
Question stated
And the demons baited.

越えて (Beyond)

Half of the bright moon stolen,
The curve carved by greedy men.
Humanity sold Eden.

In the night, death fills the air:
Smells of  arrogance, despair,
Desperation and warfare.

Against the guns, thoughts weaken.
Stumbling, the mind was driven,
Sanity redeemed by pen.

In the heart of the nightmare,
We huddle without a prayer.
Each breath a bold enough dare.

Sunset makes the stakes steepen.
Hunger and vision sharpen
The lights outside this den.

In each heartbeat, we prepare.
Beyond the bombs is somewhere
Our souls long to go out there.


Swirling smoke
From a dusty cigarette
Loses its identity
To these grey clouds
In this quiet city.

A car rolls by
Splashing the pooling
Dirt of the streets.
The red-eyed brakes scream
"Back to work."

No rest for shadows
Who must keep
Turning out nightmares.
This heaving monster
Is eating itself.

Like cigarette smoke
I lose myself in the rain.
Soul-selling shadows
Walk these streets,
Life-blood to sin.

Dear 黒本,

It's been a long time since I've needed you.   That's a good thing.  I originally brought this about because I had emotions clawing me apart to get out, feelings of grief and hatred that I had hidden away or were just too much to keep to myself.  It was a bad time and this was my way out.

I'm still reminded through little things.  Just small occurrences that are insignificant, that anyone would deal with, remind me of the past and things I'd like to run away from.  But they don't mean anything and don't have any results, so everything is okay.

Not to say I have no stress and worries.  Writer's block is creeping around somewhere.

Whether or not they know it, my friends are helping me deal, just as my writing had.  It's not even that I'm talking about my grief to get through it.  It's just listening to other people's problems, whether or not I say anything to identify with them, is a release all on it's own.  I'd like to talk about it, as I'm still reminded, but  I'm sick of dealing with pain and grief and want most to just not feel it anymore.  I don't want to open my mouth and lose all of my words because I'm not physically ready to tell someone how I feel.  How I've been feeling whenever I think about it.

It's late.  It's only been an hour into the 23rd, but it looks I'm surviving another one.  I'll try not to push myself to hard, because I know that if I try to "reminisce" I"ll cry.  I don't want to cry.  It's been a long time since it first happened and I've been sick of crying about it for a long time.

I feel hopeful. I'm not quite through the storm, but it's quieted down.  The clouds haven't cleared, but at least it has stopped raining.  It's not quite the first step to a new start - I accredit New Year's Eve that one - but it's another step in the right direction.  I'm not sure what my destination is yet, but I think it will be a good place.

I don't know you.  I don't know if you have dealt with the loss of a loved one.  I don't know how hard that blow hit you.  Maybe I've had it easy and just like to complain.  I don't want to sound like a cliche, but it will get better.  It takes forever, but it does get better.  I wouldn't say it gets easier, but it gets better.  I hope that you find, well, hope.  Even if you have to be sick and tired of being sick and tired to find it.  Look for sunshine in your rain clouds.  Maybe you'll find a rainbow.  Look for a sword, a shield, a source of strength and perhaps you'll find a life-giving well.  Just keeping holding on, keeping walking, even if you have to walk backwards because you can't turn away from it just yet. 


Fear not the enemy,
Come here beside me.
Knocking at the door
Like a merchant of death、
Fly here to a safer shore
And be wrapped in warm arms.

Fear not the battle,
We'll make their shields rattle.
These swords of silver
And the noise of guns
Will prove your allies braver
Than your strongest foe.

This Heart Flutters Like A Bird.

I don't think you know
How perfectly your shirt
Wrapped around your body
As you slept next to me.

I don't think you know
How much strength
That single hand on my shoulder had
And how much I didn't want to leave.

I don't think you know
How much I want to let
My hand follow the curve
Of your body,
Let my fingers follow your spine
Up to your neck
And leave kisses there.

And you don't know
How many kisses
Would be left along your collarbone
Wishing to follow down
The angle of it
But getting caught up
In the hollow there.

I don't think you know
How many times I've wanted
To pick up your hand
And leave a kiss there too
Like a knight pledging loyalty.
My forehead would touch
Your knuckles, in apology.

Because you didn't know
How this loyalty carries devotion
As I indulge in my insolence
Continuing to kiss your hand
Following to your wrist, your arm
Turning them gently
As I reach your elbow.

I don't think you know
How long I want
Those kisses to linger,
How long I want to take my time
Kissing slowly the soft parts
Back down to your palm
And putting all my kisses in your hand.

I don't know
How you take the stillness
That results from your touch.
Don't think it is coldness or neglect.

I don't know
How my eyes might betray me
And all of my feelings
Might show on my face.

Solitary Confinement.


A solitary word
For the singular me.

I came to visit,
You I came to see.
Yet, the house is empty.

I asked
A great many,
With answers that vary.
All equate to "I'm busy."

Here the walls are quiet
And the world seems lonely
But the lonely one is me
Sitting here in solitary
Alone as alone can be.

A Note:

I didn't mean for this to be a poem, but that is what it became.  Finishing it, I was reminded of a much better work.  I shall link it here if you are interested.

How To Be Alone - Tanya Davis


I am majestic black.
I wonder about the civilizations far below.
I hear the poet's call.
I see the smoke from battle.
I want to go higher above it all.
I am the King's Night.

I pretend to give advice.
I feel the Sky calling.
I touch the wind's breath.
I worry the Sun-Lord will take these feathers.
I cry out against the Owl.
I am majestic black.

I understand the Heaven's currents.
I say praises to my Lords.
I dream of the Palace with floors of blue.
I try to reach it, aloft on the breeze.
I hope to see above the shining clouds.
I am majestic black.

目的 (Purpose)

On this desert plain
I dig this well,
Dreading any rain.
Hoping it will spring
Only from the soul-pool
In cool shadows below.
Then, gone is pain,
Sadness, tears, hate, and fire.
All this will drain
Resulting in the memory-drought
To forget all hell.
Looking up to
Sky-fields and Sun-reign,
This rusted shovel tips.
Across the blue terrain
Travels dust and cloud as
The first rain-tear fell.


Hated things flash
In their own lightning
To themselves, attentions called
All eyes on our enemy.

They are of cannons and drums,
From such fire and smoke we dash
All affections are poison
When we are chased endlessly.

Choking and all-consuming ash
Surrounds like moonless darkness
Leaving a taste for teeth to gnash
Remaining only the sanctuary to which we crawled.

Without it, pure despair could smash
Any hope recalled.

雲の生活 (Cloud Lives)

Knife cuts into my hand,
Cuts out my heart,
Slit open for the slaughter.
I am just one man's daughter.
My heart is failing,
My skin is paling,
No mercy from the sky above,
My sickness prevailing.
Violence is the melody
Assaulting my senses as 
You fight me,
Hate me,
Keep me in these chains
I'm bent on breaking,
Meant on taking my life but
No life to take
For Heaven's sake
Sold my soul
Long ago
To the sky for
All the wishes I could carry
In a metal seive
They escape my mind
So many castles of desert sands
To float through our hands
A peaceful escaping mirage.


Call it burning
Both ends of the candle
Call it whatever you want
When these flames are
Licking my skin
At midnight hours 
From twilight unto dawn
This faint pain lingers
First just warm
For my cold heart
Then all the water consumed
Red blisters
Color of the flames.
I am these flames.
I am consumed by these flames.
Both the driving force and the fuel.
I can't last to much longer
Without you.

永遠の耳 (Eternal Ears)

Off in the distance
You shine like stars,
Fireflies that remain
Even after the glow fades.

But, why...
Are you so far away?
The distance oceans between
Whisper their soothing songs
To calm the frantic shouting
And silence our telegraph lines.

In the shadows of the full moon
I've caught tears in a dusty bottle.
Emptied, it carries this message
Across these dominant, quiet seas.
Far flung wishes
To you....

A single splash and thoughts dawn.
The empty bottle was broken.
Off in the distance
Stars pass like fireflies.

時々愛 (Sometimes Love)

Sometimes this lonely dark
Seems better than the crowded light
To slip into sleep here
Is more peaceful than the
Spinning, noisy people.

In the desert heart
There is a well
Flowing life-water love.
People take and take.
The well receives no rain,
Drying and dying.
To avoid dying themselves
The people dig deeper
Taking every last drop.

Bound heart
Chained soul.
Sometimes I see light
And sometimes nothing
But the dark.
Fight the dark.
Praise the light.
Surrender to it all.

This heart well hopes
For a little rain
From just a single cloud.

Dear 黒本,

It still hurts.  I was reading through these posts.  It was the damn Christmas cookies that did me in. 

I wish there was an effective way to communicate a sigh over these dead letters.  All written language is dead, not just Latin and Sanskrit.  Nothing can truly tell the way the heart really is.  Although, sometimes it can get very close.

It still hurts when I remember things like Christmas cookies.  I'll never be able to make him happy again, or at least give my best attempt at it.  I'll never see him smile again.  It hurts, it really does. 

And it absolutely blows my mind away, because it has been sooooo long.  Another...  I'd say anniversary, but that is a terrible word for the annual repetition of the day that someone you loved died.  Whatever It is, It is coming in the next month.  Two days short of an exact month.

I will try not to dwell on it.  I will try not to dwell on the fact that I graduated and he wasn't there, even though I know he would be proud.  I'll try not to remember that I remembered him on Father's Day, and that I can't/shouldn't/don't have to buy/make him a gift anymore.  I'll try to not dwell on the fact that my mother, his own wife, has moved on with her life, and I have not.  I don't need to talk to someone because that will only encourage the kind of remembering that encourages dwelling.

I'm sorry.  It's really not fair to Jeff.  I can't bring myself to call him my step-dad, even though that is what he is.  This is still really really hard.  It still really hurts, but I'll try not to open an almost healed scab, a mental scar.  I'll try really really hard not to dwell on it.

I still love you,


Still air, thick with heat,
Swathed around the lonely soul--
A heavy blanket
Grounding loose spirits
Too cold to migrate to warmer hearts.
A sigh stirs...
No new words.
No freedom.
No cool breeze.
This air here is suffocating.
The heat dragging
All tenants to their home in hell.

Must get up. 
Pick up the pen and the page.
Grab a light because the stars
Shed few tears for an empty wish.
In the cool dark
Find a shadow to find a story
Listen to the ghosts
Of past and present
To spring into the future.

New Year

With the New Year has come the idea of Change and a new favorite song.  

New Favorite Song